


Tiny Bits of Paper

by Walkerbaby



Category: Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkerbaby/pseuds/Walkerbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene has something to celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Bits of Paper

**Author's Note:**

> It all belongs to the BBC and Kudos

  


Title - Tiny Bits of Paper  
Rating - Blue Cortina/ PG-13 (one tiny little word)  
Disclaimer - it doesn't belong to me. It belongs to BBC and Kudos  
Author's note - written for [](http://ladygray99.livejournal.com/profile)[**ladygray99**](http://ladygray99.livejournal.com/) prompt - Sam and Gene celebrating something.  
Summary - Gene has something to celebrate.

 

"What is this?" Sam held the small slip of paper up in front of Gene suspiciously. 

"What does it look like?" 

"I don’t know what it looks like," Sam retorted. "That’s why I’m asking. It says ‘my place 7 pm. Don’t eat.’ Not exactly a very clear note." 

"Well never mind then Gladys, forget the note even exists." Gene snapped before returning to his paper. "Forget I tried to do something nice for you." 

"You’re doing something nice for me?" Sam asked. "Why?" 

"What do you mean why?" 

"Why?" Sam persisted. "It’s not my birthday. It’s not any sort of holiday is it? Oh God, Gene, it’s not bad news is it? You’re not sick are you? Being transferred? Forced into retirement by Morgan? What’s going on?" 

"Relax Dorothy, just doing something nice. Thought you might appreciate it. Nothing’s wrong. Now if you’re done digging my grave maybe you could get back to work on the Hamilton case? Armed blaggers? Ring any bells Sunshine?" 

"Right," Sam nodded. "I guess I’ll, um, see you at seven then?" 

Gene just snorted and picked up his paper. Sam made his way slowly out of the office and back toward his desk, picking the Hamilton case up from Chris’s desk along the way. What on earth was going on with Gene? He looked over and wondered what Annie would make of it. Probably better not to ask, things were still tense between them. He didn’t think Chris would have any ideas and he wouldn’t dare ask Ray. Instead he sat staring at the Hamilton file, wondering about what Gene had plotted now. 

Seven came and Sam stood staring at the front of Gene’s house. Attached to the door was a note. _‘Sam, come through to the back garden. Gene’._ What the hell? Sam looked at the note as he pushed open the door and made his way into the tiny lounge. 

Once in the kitchen he noticed another note on the back door. _‘Sammy, grab the wine in the fridge and the glasses on the worktop.’_ He raised his eyebrows. Wine? Shrugging, he snagged the glasses and a corkscrew with his left hand before retrieving the wine with his right. At this point he was willing to play along. 

Pushing open the door with his shoulder Sam stepped out into the back garden and stopped. Gene had brought the radio outside, where it was playing soft, classical music like you’d hear in a fancy restaurant. There was a small table draped in white linen and set with a fine grained white bone china and two crystal glasses. 

"What the hell?" Sam stuttered at Gene who was sitting nonchalantly smoking in one of the two chairs. 

"Thought we could do with some celebrating," Gene shrugged. "And since you always complain about never getting a decent meal, what with my love affair with grease pits and chippies, I thought this would be a way to kill two mocking birds with one stone." 

"We’re having dinner?" Sam looked between Gene and the food lying on the table as well. Pasta, bread, hell Gene had even made a salad. 

"That would be the table full of food and the wine yes," Gene snorted. "Might make a detective out of you yet Sammy luv." 

"You can’t cook!" 

"No, I can’t." Gene agreed. 

"So?" Sam looked between Gene and the food again. 

"But do you know that if you talk real persuasively to the chef at d’Or he’ll work up a dinner for two as take away? In fact he’ll even deliver it and bring wait staff to help set up before hand. They were generous enough to even leave the plates. Promised them we’d wash up when we were done. Hope you don’t mind." 

"You talked persuasively to the chef at d’Or?" Sam was still trying to understand what exactly was going on. 

"Well," Gene shrugged. "Perhaps you could say I suggested that if he didn’t do like I asked I might have to send round someone from the Department of Health to check on a vermin report we’d had about their kitchen and since I have dinner every week with Jackie Queen, being as she and my wife are cousins, it just might come up over the blackberry crumble." 

"Your wife isn’t related to Jackie Queen," Sam plopped the bottle of wine on the table and continued to stare at Gene. 

"Well, the chef at d’Or don’t know that does he?" 

"So you threatened him and lied? Do they even have vermin in the kitchen at d’Or?" 

"No," Gene shook his head. "Wouldn’t have gotten food there if they had rats. But a rumor like that will kill a restaurant’s business. Now sit down." 

Sam followed Gene’s command and sat heavily in the chair. Gene poured wine out for them and passed a glass to Sam. "To good company and good friends," Gene suggested. 

"Cheers," Sam agreed and took a sip. It was good wine; a crisp, chilled white with a hint of a bite to it. Looking at the chicken primavera Sam decided they should go nicely. Looking up he smiled at Gene. 

"Not so bad is it Sammy?" Gene suggested as he reached for the salad. Sam looked at him in surprise. Gene Hunt was eating salad? 

"It’s nice," Sam answered. "Real nice. You said we were celebrating though. What’s the occasion?" 

"Just a small matter," Gene smiled in return. "Some papers came in the post, thought you might want to see them is all." 

"Papers?" 

"Yeah, not much really. Just a little thing. Thought it gave us a nice excuse to celebrate." 

Sam stared at him suspiciously. What sort of papers had Gene gotten that he’d want to celebrate them? Transfer papers perhaps? Back to Hyde for him? No, Sam decided, things had progressed too much between them since he’d returned for Gene to ever consider forcing him to return to somewhere he’d never belonged. 

Especially with, Sam smiled as he took another sip of wine. Especially with the constantly unresolved sexual tension between the two of them. It had gotten worse since he’d returned, long nights in the pub were becoming more common and the glances had quickly gone from lingering to all out eye fucking in some cases. Not to mention the ‘casual’ brushes of their hands against each other that were quickly turning into gropes whenever they were alone. No, Gene wouldn’t be sending him back to Hyde anytime soon. 

"So what sort of little thing was in these unimportant papers that came in the post?" Sam tried to conceal his curiosity and keep things casual. 

"Not much," Gene shrugged. "Just that Margaret Hunt will now officially be known as Margaret Williams and in return for the house I owe her all our savings, half my pension and she’ll get a bit of my paycheck every month while she’s living at her sister’s."

"You," Sam looked at him flabbergasted. He had known the Hunt’s marriage had ‘ended’ but he hadn’t known they had finally taken that step and filed for divorce. 

"Can’t exactly say I’m a free man," Gene reached over to top off Sam’s glass of wine and then his own. "But I’m no longer married. No worries about being the other woman Samantha." 

"You know," Sam drained his wine suddenly before reaching over to gulp down Gene’s as well. "I’m suddenly not very hungry." 

"No?" 

"No. In fact I’ve always thought pasta was best reheated as a midnight snack." 


End file.
